


Nothing Important

by Ironlawyer



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, Misunderstanding, Psychological Trauma, Rape Aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironlawyer/pseuds/Ironlawyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They broke up because Tony said he cheated.  Someone forgot to tell Tony that rape isn't counted as cheating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warnings for unintentional victim blaming and victim self-blaming.
> 
> Written for [this prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/7940.html?thread=15096324#t15096324) on Avengerkink.

He stumbles into the shower at five in the morning. He sits fully clothed under the spray of water that is just shy of scalding. His Italian leather shoes and designer suit won’t make it out of this, he thinks, neither will he.

‘Tony?’ There’s a knock at the door. ‘Tony, is that you?’ The doorknob turns. Tony’s glad he remembered to lock it this time. He doesn’t reply. There’s a long pause, then another knock. ‘Tony, please.’ Tony shakes his head and little drops of water flick from the tips of his hair and break the mist forming on the frosted glass. He leans over, wipes away the water and breathes on the glass, but it doesn’t look the same. He draws a smiley face then leans back under the spray and stares at the ceiling.

‘Tony? Have you been drinking?’ He wishes it was that simple. That he’d been drinking and had sworn at some important senator or been caught pissing in a beer bottle again. But he can’t blame the drink for this. Won’t blame the drink for this. This was all his stupid fuck-up self, drunk or not.

He shakes his head again but this time watches the droplets dribble down the glass leaving little trails of broken steam. He tugs off his saturated shoes and socks, sets them down together and gently pushes them away with the heel of his foot. He bows his head between his knees and knots his finger between his toes. The water dripping into his eyes is tinged slightly reddish. He scraped his forehead against the brick, the water has re-opened the wound, but it doesn’t hurt. It should hurt.

‘Tony, you’re scaring me. I’m not mad, okay? Whatever this is, we can work it out. Please, talk to me? You could be drowning in there.’

It’s not fair, he thinks, on top of everything else to let her worry like this. ‘I’m fine,’ he says but it comes out hoarse and doesn’t sound sincere even to his own ears.

Nonetheless there’s a sigh of relief. ‘What’s wrong, Tony? Please, tell me what wrong?’

He closes his eyes and pictures her. Leaning again the door, concern furrowing her brow, hand still clutching the doorknob. ‘I cheated on you,’ he says.

‘What?’

‘I cheated on you,’ he repeats.

There’s a pause. ‘Why?’

‘Just because.’

There’s a shuffling noise, then footsteps, then the door gently closing.

\--

Tony wakes up slumped against the bathroom door. The shower’s still running and his clothes are still slightly damp. He staggers to his feet and leans against the door as he tries to get his legs to cooperate. His muscles ache. His back and neck are stiff from his sleeping position and he tries not to think about the other aches. He turns the water off, and strips off the ruined clothes. There are bruises on his hips and arms. He puts his fingers over them and tries to remember what it felt like. Fragmented images of _yes, yes, so hot. You like that don’t you_ , just enough to paint a picture. Just enough to make him feel sick. How could something feel so good and so wrong at the same time?

He puts on a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt to cover the bruises. Out of sight out of mind, or some shit like that, right? Shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear his thoughts, he heads for the kitchen.

Clint’s at the table and he greets Tony with a raised eyebrow and says, ‘Jesus, Stark, what happened to your face?’ The smug grin and light-hearted tone are almost more than Tony can deal with when he’s tired and sore and coffee-less so he ignores him. Tony pours himself a cup of coffee, then sits at the table and stares at his hands. _Fingers tingling. Can’t control his hands._ ‘Seriously though,’ Clint almost sounds concerned now, ‘what happened?’

Tony takes the first sip of coffee. It burns his tongue. It hurts. He puts the mug down, leans back in his chair and tries not to look like he isn’t looking at Clint. ‘I walked into a door.’ He can picture Clint’s raised eyebrow vividly enough that he doesn’t need to look. He takes another sip of coffee, it’s still hot. It still burns. He kind of likes it like that.

‘Fine, don’t tell me. When Steve sees you there’ll be no keeping secrets. I’ll know what happened by lunch.’ _A hand tangled in his hair, pushing his face against the brick wall, scraping, cutting, bleeding._ Tony throws his mug at the wall. Clint jumps to his feet. ‘What the fuck, man?’

Tony stares at the broken shards. Four pieces. Not irreparable, but it would never be the same, it’s not worth trying to salvage it. ‘That was my favourite mug,’ he says, then gets up, steps over the puddle of coffee, leaves the room and goes down to the lab.

\--

There’s a tentative knock on the door ten minutes later. He shouldn’t be surprised really, Clint probably went running straight to the Captain after that freak out. Tony tells Jarvis to let him in, but doesn’t turn away from his work. ‘Pepper and I broke up,’ he pre-empts Steve’s question.

‘Oh.’ Steve just stands there in silence for a moment, Tony can practically feel his eyes burning into his back. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says eventually. Tony shrugs. ‘Are you okay?’ Tony shrugs again. ‘Well, um, I’ll leave you too it then.’

That was easier than he thought it would be.

\--

After that, the team leaves him alone. He works for two days straight without interruption. On the third day, Pepper phones. He doesn’t answer. ‘We need to talk.’ _See if we can’t use that mouth for more than talking._ ‘Call me back,’ is all she says. He doesn’t call her back, he knows he should, but he can’t bear to talk to her, and what’s one more thing to feel guilty about when he already feels like the shit on Pepper’s shoe.

The second time she rings, he almost answers. Not for any magnanimous reason, he’s just knee deep in car part and hears Jarvis say her name. It’s a reflex. He stops himself just in time and listens as Jarvis plays her message. ‘Tony, please, I know you’ve got the message by now. Please pick up,’ her voice sounds hoarse, like she’s been crying. He can’t take that, knowing he’s made Pepper cry. Pepper, the strongest, smartest, calmest woman he’s even known and he’s hurt her enough to make her cry. He mutes the rest of the message. She doesn’t call again.

\--

The next day Bruce comes down to the lab with a mug of coffee and a plate of sandwiches. ‘Hey,’ he says. Tony grunts. Bruce clears a space on Tony’s worktable and sets the coffee and food down. ‘Thought you could use some fuel.’

There’s an awkward silence for a long moment. Tony can tell what Bruce is thinking, knows he wants to ask about Pepper. Eventually, Bruce clears his throat, shuffles his weight and says, ‘So, what are you working on?’

Tony leans back in his chair, smiles and reaches for a sandwich.

\--

With Bruce, it’s easy to pretend everything’s fine. It scares him a little, how easy it is to slip back into things, to forget that he’s done the one thing he promised himself he never would - hurt Pepper. Bruce is telling him a story, something about Mexico and a banjo playing dog, and it feels so wrong. _This feels wrong._ ‘I fucked up, Bruce,’ he interrupts the story. ‘Major.’

Bruce looks surprised for a moment. He pauses then takes his glasses off. ‘How so?’

‘I cheated on Pepper.’

Bruce frowns. Some part of Tony is expecting condemnation, knows he deserves it. He doesn’t know why he’s telling Bruce this. Maybe some masochistic streak that’s telling him he doesn’t deserve friends, not after what he’s done. But all Bruce says is, ‘Why?’

Tony laughs. ‘I don’t know. God, I don’t even know.’

Bruce smiles weakly. ‘I don’t know what to tell you, Tony. I’m not really the kind of guy you should be asking for advice here. My track record with women isn’t exactly comprehensive or successful. Have you tried just saying you’re sorry?’

‘Huh. No, I haven’t.’

‘Well maybe you should try that?’

\--

It turns out that’s not as easy as it sounds. When Pepper phones again the next day, he means to answer, to apologise, to tell her how sorry he is and beg her forgiveness. Or just to ask her over to talk about it in person. He doesn’t though. He chickens out and leaves the phone to ring out.

‘Pick up your damn phone, Tony,’ she sounds angry this time. He doesn’t blame her. ‘I know you’re there.’ There’s a pause then a sigh. ‘Fine, be that way.’ Click.

She phones again an hour later. He doesn’t answer. ‘This is ridiculous, Tony,’ she says. ‘I should be the one ignoring you, not the other way around. For once in your life can’t you just stop acting so childish?’ A pause. ‘We need to talk and you can’t keep putting this off. I’m coming over. Don’t ignore me; you owe me this much. I’ll be there in an hour.’

Okay. He can do this. She’s right of course - Pepper’s always right - he owes it to her and he’s acting like a selfish kid, making this about him, when it should be about her. He’s doing the guilty, self-pity thing, when he should be letting her call the cards. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and goes back to work.

Forty-seven minutes later he hears the lab door open and close. He doesn’t turn away from his work. ‘Pepper,’ he says.

‘Tony,’ she says. ‘We need to talk.’

He continues typing and doesn’t look at her. He can’t look at her, can’t bear to see the anger or sadness or disappointment or whatever the hell she’s feeling. ‘I guess we do,’ he says.

He hears her step closer. ‘Why did you do it?’

Tony shrugs. ‘Come on, Pepper. Are you really surprised?’ He rapidly flicks through a series of diagrams on the screen, he barely looks at them; he can’t focus, just needs to look - to feel - like he’s doing something. ‘You’re that naive? I’m a well-known playboy for god sake. You should have seen this coming.’ He should have seen this coming.

‘I know you, Tony. Or, I thought I did. Maybe I was naive, but I never thought you could do this to me. I thought you were better than this.’ Pepper moves into his line of vision, he turns away. ‘Look at me, goddammit it, Tony, you selfish bastard.’ She grabs his shoulder and forcibly turns him around, he doesn’t resist. ‘Tell me why you did it.’

He stands up, crosses the room and leans against a worktable. It’s easier to do this with physical distance between them. Easier to pretend he doesn’t care about her, that it won’t hurt when she walks away. But she follows him. She stands just inside his personal space and crosses her arms. She’s daring him to walk away again. He doesn’t. ‘Tell me why you did it,’ she repeats more calmly this time.

He doesn’t know how to explain without sounding like he’s making excuses. It feels strange, struggling for words like this, normally they come to him with ease in even the most awkward situations. ‘It’s just…’ he starts then stops. ‘There was this guy.’

Pepper’s eyebrows shoot up, she leans closer and huffs an apathetic laugh. ‘Is that it? God, Tony, you could have said something. If you were so desperate for a guy, we could have worked something out.’

Tony freezes. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times while he tries to remember how to talk again. ‘We could have?’ It comes out way more high pitched than it sounded in his head.

Pepper tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. ‘Tony, come on,’ she shakes her head, ‘it’s not exactly a big secret.’

Tony swallows heavily and tries very carefully not to think about it. ‘We’re getting off track here. I didn’t do it because he was a guy.’

‘Then why did you do it?’

‘We were just supposed to talk.’

Pepper scowls and takes a step back. ‘We are talking, Tony. I’m not here to argue with you. I just want to understand.’

‘No, no. Jesus. Fuck! This is all coming out wrong. He was just supposed to talk.’ _Mr Stark, it’s so good to meet you._

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, he wanted to talk business. You know, all that crap you’re always getting at me about listening to potential investors.’ Pepper nods slowly but doesn’t interrupt. ‘So I’m there stuck with this guy talking my ear off about stock prices or whatever, I wasn’t really listening. Cap’s on the other side of the room schmoozing with some pretty ladies and I’m stuck with this windbag. Anyway, long and short of it, guy grabs my ass. I guess I told him to back off, I don’t know, it’s kind of hazy. I think I kicked off or something, I remember Cap came over and said it was time to leave. I guess I blew him off because next thing I remember is pukeing my guts up in an alley outside. I guess the guy followed me. I guess he came onto me again. I guess… I guess I didn’t say no.’

Pepper just stares. She doesn’t say anything. Tony can’t get a read on her and the silence feels heavy and awkward. ‘What do you mean, “you guess”?’ she says eventually.

It’s not the reaction Tony was expecting. It startles him and he answers before he even thinks about it. ‘I mean, I don’t really remember much. It’s kind of,’ he motions to his head, ‘fuzzy.’ She’s frowning, but not at him, she seems kind of distant, thoughtful and it bothers him that he can’t figure out what’s going on in her head. He shuffles from foot to foot, crosses and uncrosses his arms. She watches him, but he still can’t get a read on her. He would almost say she looks worried, but that doesn’t make any sort of sense.

‘Were you drunk?’

‘No.’ He pauses. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.’ It’s all so surreal - she’s suddenly so subdued, unsettlingly calm. She should be angry. This isn’t going anything like he had expected.

‘How much did you have?’ she asks.

Tony shakes his head. ‘I don’t know. What the hell does it matter? I was drunk. I fucked up. I’m sorry.’

She steps closer. ‘Tony, how much?’

‘We’re getting way off track again. This isn’t the issue.’

‘Please, Tony,’ she grabs his arms, ‘just tell me how much.’

Tony shakes her off and takes a step back. It doesn’t make any sense. He can’t figure out what’s getting her so agitated, but he supposes the least he can do is answer her question. He closes his eyes, rubs his forehead and tries to remember. ‘I thought it was just two glasses.’ _Just one, Mr Stark? But I already got you another._ ‘But I guess… I don’t know, I’d barely be tipsy on two. I felt pretty out of it.’

Pepper’s face falls, she slowly steps back, and watches him. ‘God, Tony. That sounds really wrong.’

Tony raises his eyebrows. It’s not like he doesn’t know he made a mistake, but Pepper sounds… disturbed, upset, not angry. He’s well acquainted with Pepper lecturing him on stupid behaviour but this doesn’t feel like that at all. This sounds like Pepper worried about him, scared and upset and he doesn’t know what to make of that. ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’

‘Do you even know what that sounds like?’

He feels like he’s missing half the conversation here. ‘You better goddamn tell me because I am really fucking confused right now.’

‘It sounds like he spiked your drink.’

Tony blinks then bursts out laughing. ‘Jesus, Pepper, that’s where you were going with this?’ He takes a long breath and calms himself down. It’s really not funny, he’s not sure why he’s laughing, it’s just so absurd. ‘What the fuck difference does it make?’

‘What?’

‘I cheated on you. Right? Right.’ He crosses his arms. ‘What the fuck difference does it make whether I was high as kite, I still did it.’

‘So he drugged you?’

Tony shrugs. ‘Sure. I guess. Makes sense. So what?’

‘It changes everything.’

‘Uh, no. It doesn’t.’

Pepper opens her mouth, pauses, closes it and pause again. ‘How can you say that? How can you think this doesn’t change things? God, Tony, you didn’t cheat on me.’

Tony shakes his head. It’s like he’s fallen into The Negative Zone or something. Did Pepper really just say that? ‘What the fuck is wrong with you? I had sex with someone else while we were together. That’s the fucking definition of cheating!’

‘You were raped.’ They both freeze. Pepper’s mouth moves silently, like she’s trying to think of a follow up. But what do you say after that?

They stand still and silent for a minute, neither willing to break the awkward silence. In the end it’s broken by Jarvis letting Tony know the render for the mark IX suit is complete. Tony turns to the projection - turns away from Pepper. ‘I’m a guy,’ he says quietly as he examines the render, ‘I know when I enjoyed something.’ Pepper is silent. With one hand still examining the model, he uses his free hand to gesture to his groin. ‘It’s kind of hard to miss.’

‘Tony.’ Pepper moves, stands at his side, so he can see her from the corner of his eye. ‘You know that doesn’t mean anything.’ _Look at that. You love this._

Tony whips around to face her, he throws his hands up in frustration. ‘What do you want me to say? You want me to tell you some dumb kid hopped up on steroids jumped me in an alleyway and had his way with me while I screamed and cried? Because it wasn’t fucking like that. You want me to convince you it’s okay I fucked another guy? Because you’re doing a good job of convincing yourself already. You want me to beg your forgiveness and tell you it’ll never happen again? Because I don’t know that, I thought…’ He pauses, his hand is clasped around a wrench and he realises he was on the verge of throwing it. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and puts the wrench down. ‘I thought I’d never do this to you. I thought I could do right by you. I thought I could love you without hurting you.’

‘You have done right by me. You haven’t hurt me. I just… don’t know what you want me to do - to say.’

‘I want you to hate me, goddamn it. I fucked up. Simple as. I fucked up, just like I always do. There’s nothing else to it. Guy cheats on you, you don’t just let him say he’s sorry and take him back. You’re better than that. You should hate me. Blame me, goddamn it, chew me out, call it like it is.’

‘I can’t blame you for something that wasn’t your fault.’

‘It was my fault!’ He slams a fist on his worktable. ‘I let some guy fuck me and I fucking loved it. And you know what? He was better than you too. I haven’t come so hard since we started dating.’

‘Tony, stop.’

‘No,’ he realises he’s shouting now, but he’s so angry he can’t help himself, ‘I won’t stop. I won’t fucking stop!’ _Stop._ He’s holding the wrench again, he throws it this time. Not at Pepper, never at Pepper, he’s not that far gone. It hits a picture frame, shatters it, Tony screams.

‘Tony,’ her voice breaks into a sob. ‘Tony, please.’ He looks at her and she’s crying.

He sinks to the floor, leans against his worktable and covers his face with his hands. ‘Why won’t you just leave me the fuck alone?’ His voice is shaking so bad but his hands are shaking even worse. He’s crying, he realises. Why is he crying?

‘Tony…’

‘Go. Just go.’ He lifts his head and looks her in the eyes. He can’t hold it together anymore. All this guilt is making him lose it. Breakdown, midlife crisis, whatever the fuck it is, he just wants to spend the rest of his life locked up in the lab - where he can’t hurt anyone anymore. After everything he’s done with his life, he thinks, he should have built up some sort of guilt-tolerance, but apparently it doesn’t work like that. Apparently, having twice as many things to feel guilty about makes you feel twice as bad, who’d have thought it. ‘Please,’ he begs, because he’s fallen too far to care about his pride anymore, ‘please, just go.’

Silence. Then, ‘Okay.’ He buries his head in his hands again and listens to the clip-clop of her heels fade into the distance.


	2. Chapter 2

Less than twenty minutes later, five minutes since Tony pulled himself up off the floor and buried himself in solving the mark IX’s problems with power consumption, Captain America comes barging into the lab. ‘What did you say to her?’ He crosses his arms and stands so close it makes Tony’s skin itch. Tony rolls his seat away a few feet, but Steve just steps closer again. ‘What did you do to Pepper?’

Tony rolls his eyes. ‘Excuse me, Mr Springer, but I don’t believe it’s any of your business.’

‘It is my business when you’re making my friends cry.’

‘You want to know why Pepper’s upset? Then ask her.’ Tony turns back to his work. ‘Fucking sexist,’ he mutters, plenty loud enough for Steve to hear.

‘What’s your problem?’ _It’s just a little fun._

‘Oh I’ve got all sorts of problems, Captain. Want to help me out with some?’ He licks his lips suggestively and runs a hand down his inner thigh.

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. ‘I don’t get you, Stark. Why do you always have to be so difficult?’

‘Because I’m an asshole. What’s not to get?’

Without warning, Steve grabs him, hoists him to his feet and shakes him. ‘What’s the matter with you? You make your girlfriend cry and you think it’s something to joke about? You’re disgusting!’ Tony doesn’t think, he acts. He knees Steve in the groin, Steve drops him and doubles over, Tony scrambles to his feet and runs. It’s not that he thinks Steve would actually hurt him, it’s just a reflex. Except his heart is beating so fast he can feel it in his throat and his palms are slick with sweat. He doesn’t go far, stops running when he has half the lab between him and Steve, who is still doubled over clutching his groin. Steve takes a deep breath, straightens up and looks at Tony. 

Tony shrugs. ‘Low blow.’ That’s almost like saying sorry, right?

Steve shakes his head. ‘I shouldn’t have done that. I lost my temper. I shouldn’t have made things physical.’ Steve sighs and leans his hands on Tony’s worktable, he doesn’t attempt to close the gap between them. ‘Tony, look, Pepper’s my friend, I just want to know what happened.’

‘I’d rather not talk about it. It’s private.’

Steve closes his eyes. ‘Okay,’ he says after a long pause. ‘Okay. Can you two sort this out?’

Tony shakes his head. ‘I don’t know.’

Steve nods. ‘And it’s none of my business.’ Suddenly, Steve chuckles. ‘Pepper would kill me for this, wouldn’t she?’

Tony grins. ‘Probably.’

‘Guess I’m still getting used to this whole,’ he waves a hand around the lab, ‘century.’

‘Guess so.’

Steve rubs the back of his neck and smiles coyly. ‘Just… try not to hurt her, okay?’

Tony nods. ‘I’m trying.’ He runs his hands over his face and through his hair. ‘I’m trying.’

‘Tony, I…’ Steve pauses. ‘I’m sorry.’ He leaves.

\--

The next day, he calls Pepper and asks her to come down to the lab. He figures Steve was right about him - scaring Pepper like that was disgusting and he can’t just pretend like this one never happened. He sits at his workbench and stares at a blank screen while he waits for her. He’s never been very good at the whole apologising thing but the least he owes her is an explanation. He’s just not sure how to say it.

She gets there quicker than he expected. He rolls his chair around to face her but doesn’t get up - that’s probably rude or something, but Pepper’s used to him being rude by now and his legs feel too shaky to guarantee steady feet.

She watches him carefully, but keeps her distance and doesn’t say anything.

‘Hey, um, Pepper?’

‘Yes, Tony?’

Might as well just get it over with. ‘I’m sorry. For yesterday. For everything.’

‘Tony, please -’

‘No, hear me out. You have to stop making excuses for me, Pepper - I shouldn’t have gotten angry, I shouldn’t have scared you like that. I don’t know why I did it. I just… I don’t know. I thought - I think - you should be angry and you aren’t - weren’t. I don’t know.’ It’s surprisingly difficult to explain his feelings on the matter, maybe because he’s spent the better part of his life learning to avoid or side-track such discussions. 

‘Tony, if you had cheated on me I would be angry. I would be mad, I _was_ mad. I was so upset, disappointed… angry. Then I found out what happened. Now I’m just frustrated. Someone attacked you, Tony, that doesn’t make you a bad person or a cheater, or whatever nonsense is going on in that head of yours.’

‘Pepper, I -’

Pepper puts a hand up to cut him off. ‘No, Tony, I heard you out, now it’s my turn.’ She pauses, Tony nods. ‘You’ve got this idea in your head, and maybe it’s just easier than dealing with the truth, I don’t know, but it’s hurting you. You’re letting yourself be eaten up by guilt that you don’t deserve to be feeling. Blaming yourself for something that wasn’t your fault. It’s upsetting me, Tony,’ her voice wobbles, ‘I guess I didn’t realise just how skewed things are inside that head of yours and I don’t know how to help you.’

‘I don’t need help, Pepper.’

‘You do, Tony. You really do.’

Tony throws his hands up. ‘Do I look like I need help to you?’ Except here he is, still sitting because he doesn’t know if he can stand, trying to convince Pepper she should hate him and trying to convince himself he shouldn’t.

‘He raped you, Tony, and you can’t even see it.’

‘Stop, Pepper, please.’

‘It wasn’t your fault, Tony.’

‘I know, Pepper. I know, okay.’ He can’t look at her. He leans back in his chair and stares at the repulsor burns that stain the ceiling. ‘I know. I know. Okay? I _do_ know.’ He can’t stop saying it. He’s acknowledged it now, is that supposed to make him feel better? Because it doesn’t. The guilt still lies heavy in his chest. ‘I know,’ he says again, because he does know. Logically, the rational, scientific part of his brain is telling him it’s not his fault, it’s not his fault, it’s not his fault. His drink was spiked, he wasn’t in control, he couldn’t have stopped it even if he’d tried. Except he didn’t try, or at least, he doesn’t remember trying. He remembers saying no, but he remembers saying yes too and how is he supposed to know what he wanted when he can’t even remember what happened.

Pepper puts a hand on his shoulder. ‘Tony…’

He forces himself to look at her. He takes a deep, slow breath. ‘I know.’ Because even if he doesn’t, not really, it’s what Pepper wants to hear and he doesn’t have the will to fight her anymore.

She pulls him into an awkward hug. He lets her - doesn’t push her away, but doesn’t hug back either. ‘We’ll be okay, won’t we?’ she whispers in his ear.

Tony shakes his head. ‘I don’t think so.’

Pepper pulls back to look at him. ‘Why not?’

Tony looks away, at the wall, at Dummy, at the half assembled Iron Man gauntlet sitting on his worktable, at anything but Pepper. ‘I can’t do this,’ he says. He picks up the gauntlet and fiddles with the loose wires - he needs something to do with his hands, they feel fidgety just sitting at his sides, they feel useless. ‘I don’t like this.’ He gestures to her and then himself. ‘I need you to back off.’

‘I…’ Pepper hesitates. ‘Okay. If that’s what you need.’

Tony doesn’t look up from tinkering with the gauntlet. He nods. ‘Good. See you tomorrow, Ms Potts.’

There’s a long pause, and Tony can’t help gazing subtly upward to check what’s wrong. Pepper’s arms are folded over her stomach and she’s watching him carefully. She clears her throat slightly then takes a slow step back and turns to leave. ‘See you tomorrow, Mr Stark,’ she says, but it’s subdued, lacking the usual bite of friendly humour. Tony goes back to working on the gauntlet. Pepper leaves.

\--

That night, Tony empties the entire contents of his private bar down the sink. If he hadn’t been drinking it never would have happened. It all comes down to a simple problem with a simple solution. No one could say Tony Stark doesn’t try to fix his mistakes. It won’t be easy or fun but neither was giving up making weapons for the military, he figures it’s some sort of cosmic justice, that he should suffer to make his mistakes right.

He doesn’t tell anyone. Everyone knows about it by the next day, of course, it’d be difficult to hide from a group with two espionage experts, a genius and a military tactician. They don’t ask him about it though, they make assumption, he’s sure, but they never ask and he never tells. They think Pepper broke up with him over the drinking, he’s sure of it. In a way, he supposes they’d be right.

They don’t bother him about it, so he lets them think what they like. Pepper’s the only one who looks at him funny when they’re at some charity gala and he’s drinking sparkling water from a glass that never leaves his hand.

Pepper’s also the only one who notices when Tony spots a face amid the crowd. A shock of brown curls, fashionable glasses balanced on a slightly crooked nose, slim and gawky but fitted with a suit that does its best to make him look elegant. Tony freezes and stares and the man stares back. Tony doesn’t know. He doesn’t really remember. But the face flicks a switch in his mind that skeeves him out and makes his skin crawl in the same way it does when he thinks about Obie.

Tony tries to avoid him and at first it’s not that difficult. At dos like this there are always a lot of people who want to talk to Tony Stark and avoiding one specific guy shouldn’t be an issue. Except he’s incredibly persistent. He follows Tony everywhere he goes, stands back and watches, never butts in, just waits patiently.

And eventually he finds his opening. Tony’s chatting to some congressman when he excuses himself for the bathroom and before Tony can start a conversation with someone else, the man who’s been his shadow all night steps forward.

‘So nice to see you again, Mr Stark.’ He proffers a hand, Tony looks at it for a moment then grits his teeth and shakes it.

‘And you are?’

The false smile flickers briefly, but Tony doesn’t have a chance to place the expression before it’s firmly fixed in place once more. ‘You’re a busy man, of course, I suppose all us society men blend into one after a while. Jonathan Richardson.’

‘Have we met? I don’t remember.’

The guy smiles. ‘That’s a shame,’ it sounds like he means just the opposite, ‘you seemed to enjoy yourself.’

Tony smiles and nods and desperately fights the urge to be sick. ‘You’ll have to excuse me, Mr Richardson, like you said, I’m a busy man.’ That was way too polite but it was that or punch the fucker.

Tony moves to walk away but Richardson stops him with a hand on his shoulder. ‘At least let me get you a drink, Tony. And call me Jon, I believe we’re past formalities,’ he says and runs his thumb along the base of Tony’s neck with a smirk.

Before Tony even has a chance to react, Pepper is there next to him. She grabs his arm and tugs him away from Richardson. ‘Excuse me,’ she says. ‘I’m sorry,’ she doesn’t sound the least bit apologetic, ‘but I need to borrow Mr Stark for a moment.’ 

For just a second Richardson looks pissed, but he’s soon smiling again. ‘Of course,’ he says. ‘Tell Tony it was nice seeing him again.’ Pepper glares but wraps her arm around Tony’s and walks away without further comment.

‘Can I to speak to you outside for a minute?’ she asks Tony when they’re out of Richardson’s hearing distance. Tony’s too grateful for the distraction to wonder why, plus he feels a little shaken, so he just nods and lets her lead him away.

She waits until they get outside then turns to look at him. ‘That was him, wasn’t it?’

Tony shakes his head, trying to clear the haze that’s suddenly overtaken him. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ He leans against the wall, closes his eyes and focuses on breathing. The fresh air helps, but it’s dark and cold and _familiar_ and his tie feels suddenly choking, he pulls it lose and undoes his top button. 

‘That was the man who drugged you.’

‘I don’t know.’ And he really means it. He thinks, maybe, but he’s not sure. Everything about that night is so distant that he can’t say with any certainty. Maybe he was just projecting, maybe the smarmy tone and the lecherous smirk were enough for him to read something between the lines that was never supposed to be there. 

‘Tony…’

Tony punches the wall. ‘I don’t know, okay. I think so, but I don’t know.’

‘Are you okay?’

Tony laughs. ‘Am I okay? Fuck, Pepper, aren’t you even pissed?’

‘Of course I am! I would have stabbed that smarmy bastard with my heels if it wouldn’t do more harm than good.’

‘One each right?’

‘What?’

‘Seriously, Pepper, that’s probably the guy I fucked in there and instead of throwing champagne in my face and telling me where to get off, you’re, what? Bringing me out here for a stiff talking to?’

‘What? God, Tony, we talked about this. I’m not mad at you. That man belongs in jail, or at the very least somewhere you never have to see him again. I’m getting you away from him, not getting you in private.’

‘Oh.’

There’s a long silence. 

‘Please tell me you don’t still feel that way, Tony?’

Another long silence. 

‘Let’s go inside.’ He doesn’t wait, but he knows Pepper follows him.

They go back inside and he spends an hour standing between a clueless Captain America and an overprotective Pepper, then makes his excuses and has Happy meet him outside and drive him home.

From then on he checks the guest list for every party, gala and charity do he goes to and strikes Richardson’s name off or makes some excuse for why he can’t attend. Pepper knows, of course, but she never questions it, she comes down to the lab, gives him the guest lists, asks him to sign forms and reminds him of his appointments for the day. He signs the forms, hands them back to her and she stands in silence and watches him. ‘Will that be all, Ms Potts?’ he asks her

‘Yes,’ she says, ‘that will be all, Mr Stark.’

And that’s how it goes.

Sometimes she leaves cards for psychiatrists on his worktable or hidden amongst his paperwork. He keeps them in a drawer in the lab, locked both manually and electronically. He wants to throw them away, but in a twisted sort of way, just knowing they’re there makes him feel better, reminds him that Pepper doesn’t blame him. Reminds him that he shouldn’t blame himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s kind of open ended, unfortunately I couldn’t write it all tied up with a happy ending, though I would have liked to! It had to end unresolved because however else I swung it, it felt a little disingenuous. We know how Tony deals with the things he feels guilty about and I couldn’t see him getting help for this or fully accepting that he shouldn’t feel guilty about it. I tried to give it a hopeful slant right at the end and maybe someday Tony will be forced to confront this, along with Afghanistan and Obie and all his unresolved canon Issues, but I think that’s another story.


End file.
